


Blame it on the Sex Pollen

by TheShinyLizard



Series: MDM-Alpha2b, also known as Sex Pollen [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 14:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShinyLizard/pseuds/TheShinyLizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Enterprise has encountered many oddities while traveling through space on her five year mission. Some of them were strictly on one planet while others seemed to thrive on many planets. One of the strangest and yet most prolific of these oddities was affectionately dubbed ‘Sex Pollen’ (a very unscientific and unspecific name as said by the Enterprise’s First Officer, Mr. Spock to a smirking Dr.McCoy): a pathogen (coded under the name MDM-Alpha2b) that strips the subject of their inhibitions and induces a euphoric and aphrodisiacal release of serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine that ultimately leaves the subject in a libidinous, primal state until sexual release (generally of a penetrative nature) and the release must be with a partner, manual sexual stimulation has so far been unsuccessful. As the infected person is typically severely impaired it is up to their emergency sex pollen contact (not sex buddy, Jim, stop calling them that) to ensure release and gratification.</p><p>Sex Pollen was a cosmic joke, or at least that’s what Jim thought. Before Spock and he fucked and blamed it all on the sex pollen.</p><p>---<br/>I suggest reading Emergency Sex Pollen Contact first</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame it on the Sex Pollen

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel/ alternate character POV for "Emergency Sex Pollen Contact"
> 
> The ending in that story was dub-con and well I enjoy alternate POVs so my gift to those who requested this story

The Enterprise has encountered many oddities while traveling through space on her five year mission. Some of them were strictly on one planet while others seemed to thrive on many planets. One of the strangest and yet most prolific of these oddities was affectionately dubbed ‘Sex Pollen’ (a very unscientific and unspecific name as said by the Enterprise’s First Officer, Mr. Spock to a smirking Dr.McCoy): a pathogen (coded under the name MDM-Alpha2b) that strips the subject of their inhibitions and induces a euphoric and aphrodisiacal release of serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine that ultimately leaves the subject in a libidinous, primal state until sexual release (generally of a penetrative nature) and the release must be with a partner, manual sexual stimulation has so far been unsuccessful. As the infected person is typically severely impaired it is up to their emergency sex pollen contact (not sex buddy, Jim, stop calling them that) to ensure release and gratification.

Sex Pollen was a cosmic joke, or at least that’s what Jim thought.

The first time the Enterprise’s crew found Sex Pollen was on the Pink Cotton Candy Cloud Planet (or Regulus 9 as Spock derisively informed him because nicknaming planets in the official captain’s log was frowned upon by his uptight first officer but it’s Jim’s captain’s log and he can put whatever he wants in it). And Spock and he fucked. All because of sex pollen.

Not the best sex of his life; it was too rushed but it did bring to light a new side of his first officer. He made sure to save Bones’ reaction for posterity (it was priceless) but that wasn’t the most memorable part of the day. Jim couldn’t forget Spock’s face. It was hard to forget someone’s face when they’re climaxing (Jim remembered just about everyone’s ‘O’ face, even Sandy Wilcox, who he lost his virginity too). Something about Spock’s hard angular features distorted, his mind lost to the pleasure; Spock’s hand on his dick and his cock up Jim’s ass somehow mad it Spock’s face while orgasming all the more remarkable.

Jim’s ass was sore and it made the next few days unbearable. Bones patched him up after receiving the shock of his life, but it lingered, a blissful souvenir. Jim couldn’t forget their shared pleasure. There was one problem with the planet and its sex pollen- he couldn’t look Spock in the eye, which made for some very interesting conversations with Spock (the pads Jim held became more and more intriguing). Bones pointed out during lunch, two days after the event, Spock couldn’t look Jim in the eye either. Damn sex pollen had messed with their dynamic and now they needed to fix this. The next morning Jim pointedly walked up to Spock and said ‘good morning’ followed by his best smirk, just like he used to before the sex pollen. Normalcy was restored to the Enterprise and her illustrious command team, her captain and first officer could talk again.

The next appearance of Sex Pollen was on the Purple People Eaters planet (Bones didn’t appreciate his humor either, his first officer and CMO needed to loosen up) where LT Uhura and he were forced together. There is nothing left to be said on that subject. Jim heard through scuttlebutt that Spock and Uhura broke up later. Reason (and from the only source that counted aka Uhura): She wanted more emotional investment and Spock was unable to commit.

It doesn’t take long for Sex Pollen to pop up again. And again. It actually started getting ridiculous as to the number of planets that had sex pollen in some form or another, because it wasn’t always pollen. And soon there were betting pools on whether or not the next planet will have sex pollen and if it does who will fuck whom. It was almost a given that the captain and first officer would bang if sex pollen appeared and they were together, so no one could bet on them. Jim placed a few bets of his own.

The thing was though, if it wasn’t for the sex pollen than Spock and he wouldn’t have started hanging out at nights. Apparently the sex opened them up. It took the one thing off the table most people associated with Jim, they were able to move passed it and focus on getting to know each other, not getting to bone each other (which Jim kind of wished they were doing because Spock was getting really good at sex). So in a way the sex pollen improved their dynamic.

“Captain, you’re required in med bay.” Bones chirped over the bridge’s intercom.

Jim sighed; he hadn’t done anything this time, certainly nothing that would warrant a visit to Bones’ personal torture chamber. The blank view screen stared back at him, the Enterprise was in transit to Star Base 4 and then it was back to deep space exploration. Whatever Bones wanted it was bound to be more stimulating than watching an empty view screen and wondering how much bacon he could reasonably program into his breakfast before Bones caught on.

“Spock you have the conn.” Jim said and strolled into the lift. He took it down to deck 5 and hummed as he walked to the med bay.

“Bonesy?” Jim poked his head into the CMOs office.

Bones scowled at him. Jim titled his head, was Bones’ face stuck like that from scowling all the time.

“Get in here.” Bones gruffly said.

Jim plopped into the chair across the desk and propped his boots on top of the cluttered desk. Bones scowled deepened. Jim changed positions, so this wasn’t a social call then, a rescue from the tedious monotony of space.

“You remember Regulus 9, Jim?”

He nodded and waved his hand, wordlessly encouraging him to continue, though he much preferred the more descriptive name Pink Cotton Candy Cloud Planet.

“And Monolexigla?” Jim nodded again. Two planets with sex pollen.

“Junta? Epsilon 2? Valean? O’lenka?” Each one received a slow nod. There was a trend going on here, Sex Pollen was on each of those planets. Not that he had been infected on each one, but he could recall the crew members who were.

“Sirius 4?” Jim nodded slowly.

Spock hadn’t shown signs of infection until… well that thought was best left unfinished. He didn’t want a repeat of their first experience with Sex Pollen when they couldn’t look each other in the eyes. He already had to deny Spock’s request for a ship transfer because the poor guy was beating himself up for what he had done while under the influence. Jim could forgive him for it, if he couldn’t then they wouldn’t be able to work together and that was not was Jim wanted. Spock was his friend… and a damn fine first officer too.

Bones sighed and scratched the back of his head, scowling down at the pads in front of him. They both knew which one was next.

“Caribe?”

“Yeah.” Jim dropped his eyes to the desk and looked over the pads, he read the ones that were on (he was skilled at reading things upside down).

“Well Starfleet is getting involved now. We’re not the only ship reporting in these…” Bones waved his hand in the air, “situations.” To put it delicately. That last planet had been the first time that anyone had been adversely affected by the experience. Jim didn’t want that to happen to anyone else.

“So what’s going to happen?” Jim leaned forward, dreading the answer. Starfleet could pull a dick move and insist on investigating the matter which would bring up Sirius 4 and then that would implicate Spock and if they went so far back as to Monolexigla then there went two more careers down the drain.

“Emergency MDM-Alpha2b- Sex Pollen- Contacts.” Bones deadpanned.

Jim shook his head, he couldn’t have heard right. “What?”

Bones continued undeterred. “New requirement for each person on the ship. Everyone has to have one and they must be on the ship.”

“So a sex buddy?” Jim grinned and cocked his feet on the desk again.

“God damnit man, these are not sex buddies. This is for official use. If someone is infected with a lethal pathogen and the only cure is sexual release-”

“So a sex buddy,” Jim chuckled. He leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. This was much more interesting than watching the vast emptiness of space.

“Fine, ‘Sex Buddy’,” Bones pantomimed quotes and continued to relate the specifics of the message.

Concerns had arisen regarding the issue of consent, which was a valid reason as far as Jim was concerned; no one had cried foul yet but it could happen and the ramifications could be far worse than anyone imagined if Starfleet didn’t have a policy in place. Which was how Starfleet, in all of its brilliant wisdom, came to the establishment of Emergency Sex Pollen (MDM-Alpha2b) contact (Bones chided him when Jim tried to send out a ship wide message with the subject line of ‘Pick Your- I need Sex Now- Buddy Contact’, no one appreciated his humor anymore).

There were a bunch of legalities related to it but it could be boiled down to- if I have to fuck to live then I want to fuck you/ you fuck me so that I can live and not die a horrifically painful death by lust. Agreeing to be someone’s sex buddy was tantamount to giving consent to emergency sex if a fuck or die situation arose; plus the CMO, meaning Bones, would monitor the infection and quarantine the couple(s) if necessary and evaluate them afterwards to ensure that there were no lingering issues. Jim liked his version better than Starfleet’s long winded version.

Jim was the first to submit his request, who else would he pick but Spock; they had already fucked four times and it hadn’t gotten weird except for the first time and they’ve soldiered on in a distinctly manly fashion. Now he just had to have Spock approve of the request, which he had little to no doubt that Spock would. Who could deny Jim, not Spock, certainly not Spock, never Spock, Spock would certainly agree to the asinine idea. The internal pep talk about this was getting ridiculous; Spock would agree to it. Right?

And Spock would ask him too, there was no doubt, nothing. Except Jim never received a request: not from Spock, Bones (which admittedly would’ve been a bit weird but he could deal, or would deal, who would top in that relationship… Jim decided that thought needed more alcohol before he could decide if he’d let Bones fuck him up the ass), or even Rand (and he knew for a fact that she had a crush on him).

The morning the communique had gone out the ship was buzzing with who was whose contact and what would you do to save my life conversations. More couples sprang up that morning than ever before (nothing was more romantic than being asked would you have sex with me to save my life to which Jim chuckled and Scotty dubiously looked on while they enjoyed the product of the illegal still in engineering).

A new betting pool started up: who was whose sex buddy.

It took longer than usual, first few missions after the requests were released, to plan the members of each landing party. Spock and he agreed that it would prove easier if they had the party comprised mostly of contacts just in case someone stumbled onto the pleasurably lethal pathogen and it was quick to affect. The first time Lt. Uhura joined the landing party and they had to check the records on her contact was, Jim was floored. They didn’t make the information public but Jim wondered how much money would’ve been won and lost if the crew found out who was Uhura’s contact.

“So Ensign Rand?” Jim quietly asked.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“I wasn’t-until now.” Jim swallowed the lump in his throat. His imagination was playing wicked games on him, showing Uhura and Rand together, he shook his head clear. It wouldn’t do to piss off one of his top officers and the best damn linguist in the fleet. Uhura shot him a look, one that promised unbearable madness and pain if he continued those thoughts. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Not thinking about it anymore.”

“Good.”

By the end of the week a rumor spread around the ship that Uhura and Rand were together. Jim didn’t start it. He had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t a rumor and more of a scuttlebutt prone ensign spotting the two getting it on somewhere ‘accidentally’. No one on the bridge mentioned anything about it, they continued on as usual. Well as usual as could be considering that the Enterprise was swiftly becoming a veritable love boat.

Now the one relationship that Jim had debated with Officer Darwin over for hours was Chekov, and his possible relationship with Sulu. There was no way those looks on the bridge were strictly platonic. There had to be something going on between the two. He sat right behind them, they couldn’t hide anything from him but they were. Jim was going to get to the bottom of it; he had 50 credits on the line here.

The Enterprise was ordered to revisit a planet that was known for having sex pollen plants (not the reason why they were visiting but sex pollen was listed in the information about the planet) and who was more knowledgeable about plants than their resident botanist Hikaru Sulu. It was the first conceivable chance that he could request information on Sulu’s sex pollen contact, which would win him the bet because most sex pollen contacts were reciprocal. This was also the first time the landing party could include either of the pair without it seeming contrived; Jim wasn’t going to win those 50 credits by hacking into the database. If he was going to win it would be fair and square, through careful observation and underhanded use of the captain’s powers. And when he had Bones send him Sulu’s sex buddy (emergency sex pollen contact was emphatically bolded and underlined when Bones sent the information back) it was revealed to be Chekov. Jim threw his fist in the air when he read the name, he would get a chance to gloat and collect his 50 credits later; he still had to be all captainy and proper while on the bridge.

There was a downside to knowing who was with who and whatnot, he couldn’t always congratulate people. Not every couple told they crew, like Sulu and Chekov, so when Jim would collect his payment from Darwin they would have to swear to keep quiet until the couple made their relationship public (Jim thought Sulu wanted to protect Chekov a bit longer, and Jim didn’t think that was a bad idea at all.) The need for secrecy went to shit when the Sulu and Chekov managed to stumble on to the sex pollen spewing plant. Jim had a sneaking suspicion that stumble was being loosely used and more like they had sought it out; no matter though, Jim still won the bet and he spent more time planetside thanks to those two getting it on, it was a win-win.

The one person whose contact information was impossible to get to was the good doctor’s. When Jim requested Bones for the landing party (Jim tried not to do that too often, he respected his friend’s dislike for having his atoms disassembled and then reassembled somewhere else, Jim was good like that) Bones agreed, but he wouldn’t spill as to who they would need to bring along for his contact. Bones insisted that unlike some damn fool captains, who he wouldn’t speak the name of, he wouldn’t find the damn stuff so leave him the hell alone and get out of his business thank you very much.

It was the first time the crew encountered an animal that secreted the stuff. The animal in question looked remarkably similar to a cow and it didn’t so much as secrete sex pollen as spray it. Bones looked like he was dripping with milk and then his murderous expression turned lecherous; not something that Jim had wanted to see. Luckily Spock kept a level head and while Bones determinedly chased Jim; Spock requested an immediate beam up for their intoxicated CMO and for his Sex Pollen contact to meet him. It was Dr. Carol Marcus; damn Jim wished he had placed a bet on that one but it was too late now.

It was terribly hilarious to learn when they returned to the Enterprise that the good doctors hadn’t made it to Med Bay and that one of the rec rooms was covered in the milky fluid and it needed a decontamination team to clean it.

Jim was a good pal, he checked on his friend when Doctor M’Benga cleared Bones of any lingering sex pollen. Spock insisted on joining Jim when he met with Bones. The Vulcan started acting possessive around Jim those days, no clear reason why but the captain let it go. It wouldn’t do to try and reason out the logical decision the Vulcan had made in standing closer than appropriate lately. The only problem came when Bones wanted to talk about what happened, specifically when he flirted with Jim.

 “Look, Jim…”

“Bones, you don’t have to say anything.”

“Thank God.” Bones tugged Jim close and embraced him.

Jim released him, grinning, and stepped back. Spock moved forward and nerve pinched the doctor. Bones didn’t have time to look shocked at the Vulcan, he slumped forward.

 “Spock.” Jim yelled, indignant. “What did you do that for?”

“I believe the doctor is not clear of MDM-Alpha2b. He should be checked again.” Spock deadpanned. If ever there was a time to glare in frustration at the ceiling this was it.

Sometimes there wasn’t anything fucking ‘logical’ about Spock’s actions. That was occurring more and more recently too. Jim looked sidelong at Spock once they were on the bridge. Spock wasn’t the easiest to understand, but Jim and he had a mutual understanding. They talked and played chess together, ate their meals together, there was rarely anytime that they weren’t together. But something was up. And it only took Spock oddly and inexplicably cancelling a chess match.

The first person he sought out was Bones, even though he still hadn’t forgiven ‘the green blooded hobgoblin’ for pinching him when he was deemed, by a medically trained and also the second highest ranking medical officer abroad the Enterprise, clear of the pathogen. Nerve pinches were not pleasant to wake up from; Jim knew this from firsthand experience.

“Bones,” Jim whined and tried for his best puppy dog pout, a sure win if there was one.

“You’re a damn fool.” He halfheartedly growled, not menacing threat behind it.

“Come on, something’s wrong with Spock.” Jim groused, leaning back in the chair across from the desk.

“And you expect me to know what it is, go ask him.” Bones stated. He didn’t look up, his eyes scanning the pad in his hands.

“He can’t stand being in the same room as me.”

Bones lowered the pad and looked at Jim, his brows quirking. “Anything else, darlin’?” Bones drawled.

Jim glanced at the ceiling, scratching his head. “He’s snappish.”

Bones scowled.

“More so than usual.” Jim explained. “And Spock – there’s something off, he’s agitated lately. But nothing bad, nothing that can be called into question.”

Bones nodded placidly, propping his chin on his hand. “I’ll look into it kid. See if there’s something wrong with Vulcan.”

Only Bones came back with zip, nadda, zero. For all their resources aboard their precious Enterprise there was nothing that Bones could find, leaving Jim back at square one.

His first officer’s impeccable control was slipping and there was nothing he could do. Spock turned down all offers for chess. Meal time was a curt, brusque affair. The bridge crew could see it too. They glanced anxiously at the science station where Spock sat straighter than usual. His spine painfully straight, not that he was a sloucher before but his posture was rigid and painful to look at.

Soon all attempts at communication were cut to the barest form possible. Spock responded with one word answers, and if it needed a longer explanation then it was clipped and curt. Something was going on and no one knew what.

Two weeks. Spock’s attitude worsened each day. Jim snapped when an ensign called his first officer’s name several times and received no response. Enough was enough. If Spock was going to talk to a friend, or anybody really because Jim had asked Uhura and she shook her head, then Spock would talk to the Captain.

Jim took the ensign aside and directed her to speak with Spock’s assistant Science Officer.

“Commander.” Kirk said. He stood directly behind Spock at the science station.

Spock tensed. His body poised for a fight. Jim clenched and unclenched his hands. He was going to get to the bottom of this. “Yes, Jim?” Spock quietly asked, using Jim’s name, his first name, not captain or Kirk- his first name.

Jim swiveled the chair around, forcing Spock to face him. “Spock?” Jim asked/ solicited.

Spock didn’t though. His eyes were locked over Jim’s shoulders, fascinated by whatever he saw there. Jim knew what was there though, nothing, absolutely fucking nothing was interesting about that gleaming chrome ceiling panel. The bridge was perfectly pristine, the crew maintained their baby.

Jim sighed. “Come with me,” he entwined their fingers and pulled a surprisingly unresisting Spock from his seat.

“Sulu, you have the conn.” Jim called from inside the lift.

Spock stopped and stood close to him, the idea of personal space was nonexistent apparently; their bodies almost pressed against each other. Jim pressed the button for deck 3, the officer’s personal quarters. He wasn’t going to have a chat with Spock in one of the many conference rooms, this was a personal subject and while Jim was basically going to order Spock to spill and talk about whatever issues he had, he wasn’t about to force him to do it in a business like space. Spock was his friend, heck he was his emergency contact- even if it wasn’t reciprocated. Jim looked askance at the Vulcan nipping at his heels, following him quietly and almost contentedly. Something was going on- and Jim had no idea what.

They arrived to Jim’s quarters and he voiced the door open, Spock trailing him inside.

“Spock, what’s gotten into you?” Jim turned around.

The Vulcan stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Their chests pressed together. Jim stepped away, eyeing Spock curiously. He tried dropping Spock’s hand but the Vulcan adamantly held on. “Spock, are you alright?”

Spock pulled him close and wrapped his arms around Jim. “I am well, Jim.” He purred into Jim’s ear.

Jim didn’t struggle in the crushing embrace; his arms pinned to his side. This was a drastic change from the stoic first officer he normally saw and considering Spock’s recent behavior this was an unexplainable shift in personality. Not that Jim was ungrateful, he had expected yelling, snarling, general uncooperativeness, and this shift was different. Spock was determined to crush Jim to his chest, wrapping his arms greedily around him, and purring. He could work with this.

“Ashaya.” Spock murmured against Jim’s neck.

Jim stilled, his brows peaking. Spock’s hands drifted down Jim’s chest to rest below his shirts. Spock mumbled something into Jim’s neck again and tugged Jim’s shirts up and off. Spock’s mouth latched onto the exposed skin, laving it, nipping it. Spock’s hands roamed over his body, caressing him.

“Spock?” Jim questioned, leaning back slightly, not leaving the Vulcan’s embrace.

Spock didn’t respond, his attention fully on Jim and his skin.

Not that this wasn’t a delightful reality. There was something wrong though and Spock’s sudden interest, no matter how much pleasure Jim took in the idea that Spock liked him, they needed to stop. They needed to talk.

“Spock.” He said more insistently, shoving at the Vulcan’s shoulders. His attempts were feeble; Spock took the hands and kissed them, pouring his attention into kissing every inch of skin available.

“Computer,” Kirk called, keeping his head in the situation. Spock was attacking his neck again. Jim moaned as Spock found a sensitive spot just below his ear. “Contact McCoy.”

Spock dropped to his knees and mouthed Jim’s cock through the regulation black trousers. “Oh fuck.” Jim squeaked in surprise. Spock tugged the zipper down and popped open the button.

“McCoy here, Jim. What can I do for you?” Bones congenially asked. Upon hearing the other voice Spock growled and roughly pulled his pants and boxers down. And swallowed Jim’s cock to the hilt.

Jim gasped and leaned forward, grasping onto the first thing his hands found, Spock’s hair. Something was definitely wrong with Spock, his mind screamed, struggling to work under the pleasurable circumstances. Jim rasped out a rough breath, closing his eyes against the assault.

“Spock,” Jim whispered, stroking the soft black hair back. He dragged his eyes open, staring up the ceiling and counting down to ten; someone had to keep a clear head.

“Jim?” Bones cried “hold on. I’ll be there in a second.” The Vulcan growled, dropping Jim’s cock from his mouth and standing up. His eyes narrowed, Spock menacingly scanned the room. Growls reverberated through his chest.

“No.” Jim shouted. He pulled Spock into a frantic kiss, trying to distract him from Bones. Spock was acting as if he was under the influence of sex pollen. That was the only thing it could be, why else would he suddenly be blowing Jim’s dick. Not that he would deny a growing attraction to the Vulcan, he just expected it to go about logically, like an old fashioned courtship with flowers and dinners and candles, the whole nine yards.

“Jim?” Bones asked concernedly. Spock growled in response and the sound went straight his to dick. (Spock growling, hot, Jim needed a recording of that, never mind because then he wouldn’t get anything done) And Spock’s hands were everywhere.

And they fucked. Again. This time Jim didn't know the reason why, slow acting sex pollen was still a viable guess but for three whole days Jim just about didn’t leave the bed. Spock and he didn’t leave the paired rooms. In fact Jim had no idea who was running the ship, it could be Sulu for all he knew since he gave Sulu the conn, or Scotty since he was technically the 3rd in command (try telling him that, the Enterprise’s Chief Engineer preferred to leave the commanding to Jim and Spock, not an ambitious bone in Scotty’s body). Jim did find out that Bones had placed Spock and him on an indefinite medical leave and demanded a bottle of bourbon to replace the one he used to bleach his brain of their mid-coitus conversation. In those three days, Jim could hardly get a word in Standard from Spock.

So on the third morning, when Jim woke up, Spock wasn’t fucking him or sucking him off or any other sexual act, he figured that whatever Spock had gone through had finished and he contemplated whether or not he needed to vacate the bed before the supremely private Vulcan woke up and either throttled him or requested a transfer because Jim wasn’t his… contact.

 How did… Jim paused, looking Spock over, taking in their naked bodies. They had sex for almost three days, almost none stop sex: Spock was either sucking him off or fucking him, or for a change riding Jim, but they had sex too many times for Jim to count. Jim’s head fell and he groaned. He enjoyed it alright. He enjoyed every pleasurable second. But his ass was beyond sore. It would take a day or four to even be able to sit down in the captain’s chair comfortably again. And if Spock…

Jim felt something at the back of his mind, like a flutter of wings or the thrill of classic internal combustion engine starting, whatever it was though it was Spock. He glanced upward to the Vulcan’s face; Spock’s eyes fluttered, opening.

Well it was time to face the music, see what the Vulcan would do, throttle him- or bolt off the ship.

“Good morning sunshine, “Jim cheekily said, noting the blush tinting Spock’s face.

“Good morning, Jim.” Spock said, caressing one of Jim’s hands. Jim experienced a small thrill that Spock had called him by his first name, not captain or Kirk, but Jim. Maybe he wasn’t going to be throttled this morning.

“Not that I’m complaining but do you care to explain the last few days?” Jim kissed the knuckles on each finger; Spock shuddered underneath him and something fluttered in his mind, more like a car engine revving and dying to a quiet purr. He needed to get this out. He had to know what happened. He had to know if his ass was toast for this impromptu sex marathon session, even though really he wasn’t the one infected with some latent sex pollen.

“It is not spoken of on Vulcan.” Spock said, looking away from Jim.

No, there was no way Spock was getting out of this one. He had some explaining to do and Jim was a persistent dog with a fucking bone, he was going to find out why he’d been fucked six ways to Sunday.

“Well, good thing is we’re not on Vulcan.” Jim said, punctuating each word with a kiss along Spock’s chest.

Spock sighed as if sensing Jim’s internal monologue. “It is Pon Farr, the mating drive.”

Well that was unhelpful. Jim bit his lip and cupped Spock’s chin, forcing the Vulcan to face him. “So a fuck or die thing then?”

Spock quirked his brow at the odd remark but nevertheless answered “yes”.

“Good…good” So Jim wasn’t going to be tossed out on his ass at any moment but there was still the problem that he wasn’t Spock’s declared contact. Bones had wielded his god like CMO powers (Bones threatening to report Jim for various medical reasons came up a lot more often than one would think but good thing is he also knew how to use his powers for good too). Jim smirked and tried to sound reassuring. “Bones made sure I agreed to the contact.”

“Ashaya,” Spock tentatively said, Jim felt something akin to cool wind blowing across a desert plain in his mind, “it is more than that. We are bonded.”

“Bonded?” Jim asked.

“Bonded.” Spock affirmed, placing his fingers precisely on Jim’s face, just like Spock Prime did. He melded them, and their minds became one and the same.

Jim tried not to think about how much he thought about Spock, how much he noticed him, and how he had missed the chess games. But Spock saw and he smiled. He showed Jim the burning, the depth of his feelings, the crux of Pon Farr ripping away Spock’s chance to court Jim. It wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. And he couldn’t control himself when Jim touched him on the bridge. Jim stopped Spock before he could torment himself. He thought of all the chess games, the times they were together, the smiles Jim saved just for Spock, particularly when the Vulcan found something fascinating. In return Spock showed him the bond, a fledgling thing: it was a roaring engine and a beautiful and fertile desert, everything at once.

Going to see Bones the next day was an interesting experience, the Southern doctor scowled and demanded a bottle of genuine Kentucky Bourbon the next chance Jim had, because Bones had drank through his bottle of Blanton’s (there was only a quarter left in the first place, they had shared it on multiple occasions). The doctor ran Jim through many medical tortures, some of which Jim was sure he didn’t actually need but let Bones do it for the sake of Bones’ sanity and blood pressure.

M’Benga took Spock aside and Jim didn’t see or hear from him most of the day, though he could feel him. The bond thrummed constantly at the back of his mind, Spock checking in on him. He couldn’t perceive thoughts but feelings were clear, in the mind they weren’t muddled.

Jim could feel Spock’s love and anxiety for his mate. And for once, Jim was happy to blame it all on the sex pollen. If it wasn’t for the sex pollen they never would have gotten together.

**Author's Note:**

> I did write the sex scene again in Jim's POV but yeah, I didn't think you'd want to read the same thing twice, which is why I cut it. Well most of it.
> 
>  
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr at [TheShinyLizard](http://theshinylizard.tumblr.com/)


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